


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Series: The Ghost Of You [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate names, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Illnesses, Injury, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Mechanical Limbs, Mechanics, Multi, Polyamory, Soulmate-Identifying Marks "Last Words", Space Marines, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't meant to have a happy ending that last life cycle, but this one... this one would be different. This one they'd have their happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light Behind Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be in multiple parts/chapters. So hold on to your teeth there's going to be a lot of fluff ahead.

David tinkered, working away in silence as the room around him whirled and sang in him in all its mechanical glory. He was no good with vehicles—space crafts, hover boards, etc. They all had a hatred for him and everything that he was, but that was fine. David could work around that in his profession.

Found on one of the Freefolk outposts, on a little chunk of land encircled by a dome, David made his life with his _soulmate_. The words forever a burning red as the man took up residence on the couch watching in silence as the blond man worked on a voice box for the man.

**I’m fine.**

Of course he’d have those words on his inner thigh, forever insuring him that Michael would be _fine_. Always the protector, his soulmate. Michael injured throat rattled into a growl, alerting David that he wanted his attention. The artificial throat that David had made for him was a lovely stainless steel, it had taken him months to craft and even two years after Michael’s accident with the military David was still constantly tinkering with it. He wanted to give the man a voice box eventually though the pair communicated in sign and Michael’s growls and many other sounds he could produce with that throat.

“What?” David sighed, finally looking up from the wires he was soldering together. Michael nodded towards the front door and David followed the movement. He dropped his instruments, face brightening visibly—it was all the warning he gave before launching himself out of his seat. The naked skin of his torso bared for all to see; all freckles, scars and the three other soulmate brands still black but tugging at his soul.

The man caught him, face burying into his shoulder as the blond’s arms and legs wrapped around him. “I missed you,” he whispered into his skin, low enough that his co-workers behind him could not overhear. It was meant for him and only him. Terentius, or Ren to them, pressed a kiss to David’s cheek bone and whispered “I love you.”

Terentius pressed the soulmark branded left palm to the words covering the black words on David’s collar when they separated. David glanced behind his second lover when his feet were finally returned to the ground. “So these are the pirates you go and run off with all the time?” He took in the mechanical limb hanging limp at the tallest man’s side.

**I will.**

David’s eyes narrowed at the ruined piece of tech before carrying over the look to his lover. “I convinced them to stop here early so Lucius could get his arm fixed here rather than the mechanic that he has down in the Reverna Quadrant,” Terentius explained, a half-hearted smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It got me home three months early, and maybe another five depending on what’s up with his arm.”

David sighed snapping his fingers before shooing Michael’s legs off the couch. “Take a seat, but I’ll need you to sit there,” he pointed between Lucius and the arm chair with the oil stain on the arm, “while I pop that arm off. I’ll give you something to fill the space temporally if you need it.” He talked as he moved, ignoring the other people as he went about searching for the proper tools to pick apart the man’s arm—and his _shirt_. David needed his damn shirt.

He left the main room and strolled down the hall and hooking right into his workshop. Grabbing a handful of screwdrivers and wrenches (just in case) as well as a spare arm that looked like it would fit a man of his size. David finally left his workshop with the thought, _there has to be a shirt in the living room_ , in mind. The four men were quietly watching television, Michael was watching the latest Gladiators match between ЛюL3 and Reverent, Terentius and Michael curled together comfortably. It made David smile, happy that his mates were so comfortable with each other despite not being each other’s. It meant so much to him—so so much to see them bonding, cuddling and kissing.

He set his tools and the spare arm on the table he rolled over to the man sitting in the seat he commanded he take. “You need to take off your shirt,” he sighed, boring hard at the obviously short circuiting arm.

The bad thing about dealing with new clients that already have mechanical limbs is that David is never sure of the type of mechanic they went to before. So, when Lucius (with difficulty) was finally able to free himself from his shirt and drop it to the floor between his feet, David could finally see the mess he was working with.

**Be safe.**

He couldn’t help but glance down pass the mess of metal and wires to the soulmate mark stealing his attention. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, bending over to take a look at the right shoulder that the arm attached to. “That’s some nice ink,” David teased, taking a closer look at the arm and making a mental note what tools he’d need to grab to start pulling it off the man.

“Yours are impressive as well,” Lucius replies with a smirk. Green and Gray-blue met before David glanced away towards Michael when he smacked him with his work gloves.

David clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I have one that burns on my leg from metal throat here.” He tosses a wink back at Lucius before turning, showing the man his back, and taking the gloves from Michael’s hands. Making a point in sliding them on his hands and wiggling his fingers—Michael always got annoyed when he’d have to clean the oil out of his cut up fingers when David worked without his gloves.

**Of course, Love.**

He has a feeling. David trusted these feelings—they were what drove him to Michael, what brought him to Terentius. It’s what made his gaze snap to the marks on Lucius’ ribs—it’s even what made David catch the hazel eyed gaze of the unnamed man sitting on the far end of the couch. The collar of the man’s shirt (and the bandana wrapped around it) covered most of the markings on the man’s neck, but David’s mind just screamed for him to see it. “So, no one told me the other one’s name. If I’m housing pirates I need to at least know their names.”

He made quick work of the man’s arm. Cutting off the feeling, the nerve valves before all but tearing the damn arm from the man’s socket. It was a lost cause. The more that David had started to unscrew the more the wires zapped and fried. He should just start from the beginning, throw out the mess and begin anew. Give him a proper working arm.

“Phoenix,” the man on the couch voiced and David’s gaze snapped towards him. The corner of his lips tugging up into a small smile. His amusement died though as soon as the man’s arm fell apart and Wash could see the mess that the damage had done. David gagged—the smell of rotting flesh, sore and infected greeted him.

He was going to have to see about possibly contacting his surgeon that he knew to help him remove this and assist him in applying a new one. “Oh for fucks sake,” David covered his nose with his arm as he stumbled away from the man and down the hall. “Lucius you’re coming with me—let’s go!” he shouted, finally dropping his arm and flipping on the light switch to the washroom.

\--

Phoenix glared at Terentius as he and the large man continued to watch the Gladiator match on the screen as Lucius screamed and cursed from the bathroom. He _knew_ , he knew that the mechanic wasn’t purposely doing anything to hurt him. He knew that this needed to be done. He knew it—he did. It just didn’t make it any easier to listen to his best friend since childhood scream and cry out in pain.

“Stop fighting! I need to clean it before tackling the infection. It’ll just make it worse.”

It went on for an hour. A whole hour of David either cooing at the man or demanding that he stop moving so he could take care of his arm. A solid hour of Lucius crying for the man to stop, to _just stop_ , and then… then it did. For ten minutes Phoenix heard nothing until Lucius, wrapped in a towel around his shoulder and a cover over the socket buried in his shoulder, padded in his pants and fell in a tired heap on the couch between the two pirates.

David appeared, form dripping wet and visibly tired, COM-link open and the face of a woman on the hologram. “I’ll see you and your client then David, do try to have a working socket at that time—and get some sleep. You look worse and worse every time I see you.” She scolded and the man snorted, waving her off. The link fell away, and the four men on the couch looked to him for answers.

He fell to the armchair, “so I’m going to be making a new socket for Lucius here. Bad news is, is that we’re going to have to _remove_ that one and you’re going to be going into surgery. Good news is that I have a few that’ll fit started up so I’ll more than likely be able to sleep before joining you and the surgeon in the operation room. So, I’m going to leave either Ren or Mike in charge of the two of you while I retire to my workshop. You’re more than welcome to the guest room or the couch, whichever suits you best—just don’t bother me until 9AM tomorrow morning. Our appointment is at 10:30AM and that’ll give us ample time to be there.” He pressed a quick peck to both Terentius and Michael’s cheeks before leaving to the kitchen, grabbing beverages and snacks before leaving again.

If he plans on being up for the next twelve hours on top of not sleeping for two days he’s going to need caffeine and something to fill his stomach.

\--

It was safe to say when they got back Lucius was out for the best of the day. Spread out along the spare bed, his stump new and sore. The infection cleaned out and nerves and flesh hooked up with the new mechanical shoulder of his. David, after checking upon Lucius one final time, grabbed a bottle of water and bid the three men goodnight before retiring to the main bedroom and promptly falling to sleep without any medical assistance.

“How long has he been up for before this?” Terentius nodded towards the closed door as Michael made lunch the three of them. He’ll make sure that he saved something for both his guest and mate when they grace them with their presence again. Michael held up two fingers and Terentius cursed, “Shit. I thought I said to make sure he sleeps?”

Michael snorted, turning to raise a brow at him. **_You think I can stop him?_** His expression read. He would’ve signed to the man but his hands were busy stirring; he’d rather not have burnt sauce. The juices in this thing burns like oil in flame once you stop stirring.

Terentius sighed, falling back to the seat. Only the living room and David’s workshop seemed to be hit with the mechanics bomb that they called work. Oil, grease and scrap was everywhere in those two room—an organized chaos David would claim. “It was worth a shot; can’t fault me in trying,” he earned an understanding nod from the taller man.

Phoenix was surprisingly silent since meeting Terentius’ mechanic and lover(s), something that was extremely unlike the man. He kicked his foot out, nudging his socked covered toe to the man’s ankle. Jolting the brown skinned male out of his musing Terentius raised a brow, “you good?”

He liked his lips, frown marring his features. “How many soulmates does David have?”

And there it was. Both Terentius and Michael heard it often enough; _four soulmates?! He must be unfaithful. Does he get around?_ He’s heard so many different things in accusation of David’s love for both Terentius and Michael. “Four,” he stated while fighting back that bitter edge, “why?”

Phoenix tapped to the exposed words on his throat, “it sings. Lucius’ does too.” There’s been tests conducted recently on the phenomenon of soulmates—what did it mean, and how did it form.

The only thing that most gathered from these tests is that your soulmate (the ink on your skin) was their last words and it was subjected to change, it always was. The next was that the relationship you form with that bond of yours is all your own—they could be your family, your lover, your best friend, your worst enemy or all of the above. It ultimately meant that this person, this soul, would have an impact in your life or the life of your past self. They’ve recently discovered that these bonds tend to pull at your subconscious, _leading_ you together at some point. Sometimes the pulls were stronger than others, sometimes not.

**I’ll do what I want.**

Terentius chuckled as he read and re-read the words on Phoenix’s throat. That did sound like something his David would say. When he looked to Michael he saw the larger man snort and shake his head in amusement—yeah, at least they were on the same page about this. “You own me a hundred, sweetums,” he muttered, standing and crossing the small distance between table and fridge. Pulling out three beers and quickly uncapping them all.

“What?” Phoenix inquired, taking the beer numbly as Terentius curled himself around Michael and set both their beers on the counter by the stove top to wrap the man in an embrace.

“I bet him a hundred I’d find David’s next soulmate when I became a space pirate. Michael here said it’ll be when he was on patrol. But lookie here, I found both—I think that should make it two hundred but I’ll settle for a blowjob once you get that throat vibrate function working and a hundred.”

Michael turned off the heat, slipping from Terentius’ embrace with a grumble and a laugh from the man. “Oh come on, I kid! Though I’ll never turn it down if you change your mind.” It would be the first sexual act they’d do together without and prompting from David—without David being present. They had been romantic before; kisses shared, hugs randomly thrown in the day for the sake of nearness, near-naked cuddles in bed and on the couch.

It started roughly around the ninth month after Terentius met David, when they got together. It started when Terentius was leaving, a lingering kiss to Michael’s lips before he moved to kiss David good-bye—he hadn’t thought about it in the moment, but it was plagued him until he reached port again the last time. Michael had greeted him with an open mouth kiss that left Terentius chuckling against his lips and breathing far too hard.

David had started it all with his whole _‘get along, play nice. I’m the only one that brings their work shit home’_ rule. And it was good; Terentius being a space pirate and Michael being a military personnel after all. He started it all with his whispers, his prompting for his two lovers to share a kiss in front of him—it drove him crazy, made him all hot and bothered. It was one of the quickest ways to get him in bed; just make out with the other for a bit and David would quickly clamber all over them, peppering their lips and faces with his own kisses.

“So… just like that? The two of you aren’t doing or saying shit about the explanation that I think your soulmate is my soulmate?” Phoenix exclaimed in exasperation, jaw slackened as both men turned to stare at him.

Terentius shrugged, “You’re not _my_ soulmate. It’s not my place to say shit. Talk with David when he gets up or something, figure out that mess first and then sit down with us and discuss relationship stuff if that’s what comes from it. Until then Michael made lunch and I haven’t eaten a good meal in months so I’m going to park my ass at the table and eat.” He plucked his beer from the counter and grabbed Michael’s in an added measure before returning to his seat.

\--

David felt the bed dip and a feverish hot body curl up behind him, the smell of sickness and vomit clinging to the man as he snuggled up behind him for comfort. His eyes snapped open, turning sharply and staring at the man—at _Lucius_ —in a panicked confusion. The back of his hand quickly finding the man’s forehead, “shit Lucius. You’re running a high fever!”

He was warned about that. The prolonged stress that the man had put upon his body, the infection that they had just rid him of, the surgery—of course he’d fall prey to a fever. The man only whimpered, twitching when David leapt from the bed. He needed a cloth, a bowl of cold water—he also needed to make sure that the man drank enough water to drown himself in. “I’ll be right back,” he squeezed the man’s ankle before slipping from his bedroom and rushing, much like a chicken with its head removed, from kitchen to bathroom—pointedly ignoring the vomit that missed the toilet.

He saw nothing, neither hide nor hair, of the three other men in that moment of panic.

He returned to the man shivering in his bed, rolling the man over David began to soak the cloths. “It’ll be fine,” the blond cooed, “this isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with a fever. Terentius still gets ill when I need to work on his eye, I think it’s the pain that makes him ill.” He swept the man’s long brown hair back before setting the cold, rung out cloth on his forehead and doing the same of the cloth he then set on Lucius’ neck and the other for his chest. “Michael only really seems to get sick when he’s back from patrol; something about more germs down here then on the ship.”

Lucius moans; a croak of pain, of discomfort but acknowledgement for the man to continue to talk to him. David set the bowl on the nightstand, slipping from the bed to crawl into it from the other side—where the man’s arm was made of flesh and bone. Lucius’ mouth opened, closed and the opened again. “You’re my,” he trailed off as his fever hazed mind stalled.

“You’re my soulmate, yes. I think so too,” David finished for the sick man, cupping his boiling face and pressing a quick peck to the man’s nose. “Don’t worry about that yet, worry about getting better and we’ll figure these marks out after.” He couldn’t help but smile down at the man who searched him out, who came looking for him when he was sick.

\--

Michael froze in the door way, brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the empty bottles of water scattered along the floor, the bowl of water sitting far too close to the edge of the nightstand for his liking and the cloths covering the dark skinned man’s body as David sleep curled up to his side as he shivered and sweats. He crossed from door to bed, pressing his knuckles to the man’s jaw and rumbling low in his chest at the scalding heat he was met with.

Poking at the cloth on the man’s forehead and finding it warm and dry, Michael quickly got to work in changing them. Dipping one into the bowl, ringing it out and applying it to his skin before repeating to the one lower, and the one lower still. Green eyes were staring at him when he set the bowl back to the table beside the bed. Michael cupped the man’s sweat slicked face, breathing out into a whistle-like sound close to a hush. He pressed his thumb to the man’s lips, patting his face lightly before standing and leaving Lucius and David in bed.

He found Terentius gagging in the bathroom, scrubbing away the mess beside the toilet with gusto. Michael knocked on door frame to alert the man’s attention. Once those chocolate brown eyes shifted his attention to the man, Michael’s fingers quickly signed out the information he collected. **_Fever. Sleeping with David. He’ll have to take a cold bath soon to get his temperature down._**

Terentius nodded, “ah.” Is all he could utter before returning to his scrubbing. “We need to make sure those two eat something, it might help if Lucius could keep something down. Soup?” Soup sounded like a good idea; a simple chicken broth blend with possibly some vegetables and basil for the sick one and Michael was in the mood for French onion. He could make fresh bread and everything to go with it.

\--

For what it was worth, Lucius was surprisingly easy to get situated in the living room with his cooled soup perched on a personal table that Terrientius unfolded and set up in front of the man. The person that proved to be most difficult in getting him situated was David and the man kept dozing in and out, utterly exhausted for all the word he had put in.

It was times like these that Michael understood why David had four soulmates—he needed that much, or _more_ , to keep him out of trouble. That man put too much strain on himself and even more when it was work he needed to do for someone he cared about. He had been up for a week working on Michael’s throat before it was installed, and then he remained awake for another two days to see if his body rejected anything before collapsing beside Michael’s hospital bed from a mixture of exhaustion, stress, malnutrition and thirst.

At least this time around his lethargic actions is simply an effect of lack of sleep instead of any sort of hunger. That’s one thing that David would never fight him on—Michael _always_ made sure the man had at least two large meals a day, and typically a smaller breakfast as well as a snack. David’s body burned through nutrients like a well-oiled machine.

“Babe,” Terentius cooed into David’s ear as the blond continued to snuggle into his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him, rather than focusing his attentions on the soup sitting on the coffee table. Phoenix smirked around the bowl pressed to his lips, taking in the couple sitting beside him. “Baby you need to eat something,” he attempted for the fourth time.

David moaned, “but I missed snugging with you more,” he threw a leg over the man’s lap and cuddled with him properly. Chest to chest, face buried in his neck and shoulder while his hands clung firm. He hummed, an uncontrollable urge to nip the man’s neck called to him, sang to him in a melodic tone. David did, he fell prey to the urge. Nipping the man’s exposed neck then pressing his lips to the mark. “I’ve missed your cock as well,” he purred.

Phoenix snorted, knuckles pressed to his lips as he fought to keep his soup in his mouth and not either spraying out of his mouth or nose. He set the empty bowl to the table as he fought to swallow it all down before something else felt the need to make him laugh.

“We have _guests_ baby, be good,” Terentius hissed, catching the man’s hips and pulling him flush against his chest before he could start a good rock with those hips of his. Michael chuckled around his spoon winking towards Terentius when he caught his gaze—that jerk. That jerk _knows_ he’s horny. God damn it. “Of course you took the armchair, you bastard. When was the last time you fucked?”

Michael held up four fingers just when David leaned out of his lap and flopped headfirst into Phoenix’s—for the record it wasn’t like he went face first into his crotch, just back of head to the middle of his thighs. “Hey,” Phoenix greeted the man cushioning himself on his lap.

David reached up with his bandaged wrapped fingers, touching the tip of the brown man’s nose with a smile on his lips. There was a name on his lips that wasn’t the man’s though it sounded so similar. His face scarred, speaking of a history that held stories—some not so joyous as others. His tattoos, his piercings—those hazel eyes. “Heyya stranger,” he smiled, hand falling to his chest as he continued to map out the man’s appearance.

There was a pull, like a puppeteer pulling at their strings. Pulling Phoenix down, making David reach up and wrap an arm around the back of his neck. _Just to see_. Just to see if the pull was right—before anything developed, before any feelings grew. Before hope was to settle in and blossom.

\--

There were _old wives tales_ , fairy tales of sorts that David had grown up listening to. Elders of his community back on the planet of Tartianna claimed that if you trained at it—worked on studying your own aura—you could see glimpses of the past lives with your soulmates. But, Tartianiens were odd people that believed in magic and spirit guides and the wisps that would guide you to your destiny.

As a young boy David rolled his eyes and played it off, shrugging off his lessons with the elders with a claim that he didn’t have need of it. Instead, David opted to slip into settlements that the Other Humans had established twenty years prior, in their metal homes and buildings, to _read_. He had been enamoured by technology, by mechanics and the metal limb that the old shopkeeper had.

It was only until he set off on his own, boarding the first ship off Tartianna on his sixteenth birthday did he really start believing in the magic and tales that his people told him about. Three days out in space he had seen them, the wisps, dancing and singing as they circled the ship before slipping off into the depths of space.

This was it. This was David’s calling—he _knew it_. He knew it by the feeling in his gut that drove him towards the Others establishment and made him pick up that book for the first time. It was what would lead him to his destiny, his… his _meaning_.

So, when he kissed Phoenix—pulling him down with an arm thrown around neck, a flash of a world he did not know erupted behind his eyelids.

Kissing **that man** was like an acid spilling down his throat and bubbling in his stomach— _bang bang._ A sneer on his lips. A gun in hand and a bullet through the head. There was no kiss to be seen in that flash of memory. Just blood and pain—just tears and screams.

Kissing **this man** was soothing, was needed after the flash of a past life dissipated.

He sat up to kiss the man with earnest; to kiss him properly—this was their first kiss in too many life times. In too many rebirthings. David’s eyes watered as a cool set in, burying itself into his soul. So his former self had killed this mate—he hadn’t known. He hadn’t have known, _oh my darling._ Phoenix melted beneath his lips, opening to his tongue and wrapping his arms tight around the blond man.

He could feel the ache—the drive, the _pain_.

Phoenix pulled back with one final peck to David’s lips, “already better than the former life.” And David could agree with that—yes he could certainly agree with that. David tightened his hold on the man, burying his nose into the man’s vest-turtleneck combo with that orange bandana still wrapped around his neck. His arm bare, open for David to slip one of his hands down and trace over the tattoos over his brown skin.

Terentius tapped his leg, “you should eat something.” His voice calm, open and caring as he and Michael both took in the embrace—how David clung to the man. The blond’s head pulled away from Phoenix first followed by a sigh as the rest of him moved back into the opening between the two pirates. David pressed a quick peck to the corner of Terentius’ lips.

“You’re too good for me,” he sighed; it was a familiar saying of his. “What did I do right to have these spectacular people looking after me?” There was no answer that they could give him, not when they’d ask him the same. How did they ever meet David in their first life cycle and how did the universe deem them worthy to meet him time and time again?

“Just eat your soup before you get sick.”

\--

Michael grew up on an Earth colony out in the Xen district—currently a peaceful area under the United Military control. He grew up being the eldest of four with three younger sisters and a mother who had to move her family from one part of Space to the other when her husband died in service. Michael spent most of his childhood helping both his mother and grandmother with his younger siblings while also providing another income.

So, upon his eighteenth birthday Michael enlisted with the United Military and within a month Michael was being shipped away from the Xen district to a hunk of space that served as a collection of numbers for basic training, then he was being shipped out again to serve his duty out in neutral Space.

It was when he made port on Vernna that he met the younger mechanic. Michael’s superior had strolled over to the man and deposited a wooden box in his palm before turning to the new recruits and pointing at him. “This is David, he’s a mechanic that specializes in artificial limbs. He’s the best you’re gonna find this side of the galaxy so you better remember his face and don’t piss him off.”

David only chuckled, standing from the crate and dusting off his pants. “You only say that because I’m _your_ mechanic—flattery won’t lower my rates, but I may polish that leg of yours with my fancy new polish extra special for you,” the man teased as he smacked the Captain’s arm. “Now please excuse me, I have a client I need to meet with at the hospital.”

As the man turned their eyes met for a brief moment—Michael sucked in a breath, only releasing when David had long disappeared from view.

**Author's Note:**

> The Names:
> 
> Terence/Sharkface = Terentius  
> Maine = Michael  
> Felix = Phoenix  
> Locus = Lucius 
> 
> And... David is still David.


End file.
